New Britain Herald Newspaper, May 26, 1927, Page 14

Love’s Embers Adele Garrison’s Absorbing Sequel to “Revelations of a Wife” Beginning Dicky Takes an Artistic Interest in ‘Young Miss Lincoln At Dicky's announcement that he wished to ak to me about Miss Lincoln, I had hard work to keep out of my face the astonishment which I felt. I had seen the unusual interest which he had evinced in our beautiful young neighbor of The Larches, and mystery of whose per- sonality and antecedents was intriguing, but that he should wish to discuss her with me was the thing furthest from my thoughts. Usually when Dicky has his artistic —1 almost wrote “romantic"—inter- est aroused in any rarely attractive young woman he avoids any refer- ence concerning her to me. “Yes?" I said with an upward in- flection, trying hard to keep out of my voice the vague annoyance I felt at his reference. “I'd like you to see as much of her this Summer as you can,” he ' said, then with a quick glance at my face from which T could not banish all trace of astonishment, he added apologetically, “I know this scems rather a queer request, but I have two reasons for it. One is, that I am very anxious to.get her to pose for me for that new his- torical novel of Thaxin's, for which T am to make the illustrations. With the exception of one feature of her face she is the exact type T want for the herolne, and T can fix that up easily in the finished drawings. can’t very well tackle her about it with only one chance meeting, but if you get rather chummy with her and she’s about the louse a lot, I may be able to induce her to pose. You haven't any objection to play- ing’around with her, have you?” Fear that he might imagine T was ealous gave my voice an unwonted | ! cordiality, an emotion which © was % mistaken, but I am ‘ Meadows who were, awak: far from feeling. “No, indeed,” I sald. “I imagine she will prove extremely interest- ing. Perhaps you noticed that I was most cordial in my invitation to her this afternoon when we were over there.” He nodded, & bit absently, waited for several seconds before he spoke again. “The other reason s more fanci- ful,” he said slowly, “Perhaps I am afraid one of those men—not the red-bearded one so | a New Ser: —he's simply & harmless satellite— but the other one—has some fdea | of extorting money from old Lin- | coln.” i “I thought you said those two { men in the shack were not danger- | ous,” I commented. | “Isald, ‘not dangerous — to us,’ " | he retorted, and I realized that I { had not imagined his hegitation be- fore the two words. doubt that both old Lincoln—that | isn’t his name of course, but as he chooses to call himself that, we have | no alternative save to follow suit— {and this shorter man at Grimsey shack are both Transvanians. 1 imagine that the man at the shack may know something about Lincoln which the old man wouldn't want | spread around — perhaps some ro- (mantic adventure of his earlier { years which he wants kept from his | wite—it's a tribe not noted for its marital fidelities, and if so, that let- ter at which Miss Lincoln seemed so | agitated today, might very well be |a blackmailing demand for money | from her uncle. | nation,” Dicky went on, while I | made the mental comment that he | was protesting a little too much, | “but it is a very plausible solution of the mystery which | hang around vergent households. At any rate, it won't be a bad idea to get on | such terms with Miss Lincoln that she wouldn't be afraid to come to | {us at once if anyt }Pcn to terrify her. But T am afraid T have kept you up an unconscion- | | ably long time. You have an early | journey tomorrow. Shall T drive you |10 the station or have you arranged | with Jim?" ! His voice changed to such distant | formality as he spoke of my pro- | jected journey the mext morning to | keep my appointment with my em- plover, Philio Verltzen, for the dis- cussion of the new plans the great producer had brought back with him from Europe, that my answer | was equally formal and prompt. “I could not think of trouhling vou so early” T sald. have told Jim to get up and drive | me to the train.” Copyright, 1927, Newspaper | Yeature Service, Tnc. i The Circus Leaves By Thornton W. Burgess One may be sorry and be glad; Look happy and at heart be sad. —Peter Rabbit Just as it was in the night that the circus came to the Green Mead- ows there by Farmer Brown's, so it was {n the night that the eircus left. Of course there was great ex- citement among the little people of the Green Forest and the Green Rabbit was both glad and sorry. He and Danny Meadow Mouse had more to talk about than any of the others, for he and Danny were the Peter | only ones wko had dared to go in- | side the tent where the animals wera, excepting Nanny Meadow Mouse, and she went only once and remained only a very short time. Now the circus had quite upset the little people of the Green For- est and the Green Meadows. For one thing, they had heard Simba the Lion roar. And that roar had shak- en them all with a great fear. Even great big Buster Bear had lost his appetite and hidden away in the deepest part of the Green Forest while the circus remained. So when the word was passed around that the eircus had left the Green Meadows there was great re- joicing everywhere. Hooty the Owl watched the long train of wagons carrying the cages and tents and all the other things to the train; and of course he teld everybody what he had seen. But Hooty didn’t see everything, and there was one most important | Hooty the Owl watched the long train of wagons ny told them. Had it not been that | s | others had seen My Lord the Elephant on his way to the rain, I am afraid that Peter and Danny would not have been be- lieved at all. But when these oth- ers agreed !had told the truth about My Lord the Elephd their friends and neighbors admitted that they might be teliing the truth about the other | folk—like Bigmouth the Hippo, and ! Horned-nose the Rhino and Long- neck the Giraffs, I “Well,” sighed little Mr who had not once left the Briar-patch, “I am glad the excite- ment is all over.” But the over. It had n. nex tory: “The Meadow Folk Are Puzzled.” nt wasn't all Green thing that he missed altogether. An | accident happened! Yes, sir, an ac- cldent happeced! You know, acci- dents will happen even with a cir- cus. One of the wagon cages got stuck. Arnother wagon turned out to €0 around it and locked wheels with it. The horses becama frightened, and befors they could bs quicted both cages had been upset. At first it was thought no harm had been done. Then it was discovared by the circus men that the two cages were empty. Somehow the doors had been forced open. Of course this didn't stop the cir- cus. Men were left to fix up the cages and get them righted whila the circus went on. Had Hooty seen what happened he would have had some yery exciting news for the n Forest. But as he didn't see ‘hat happened, no one knew any- thing about it. The next morning the tents were gone from the Green Meadows and the little people of the Grasn Meadows and the Green TFor breathed more casily. They felt that now they could go ahout their business, ahout thelr own private affairs without being worried by the unknown. But of course there was A great getting together to talk over all that had happaned, and the thing they talked most abont was the thunder of the voice of Simb: the Lion. Some doubted that the thunder could have beaen the voice of any one, but Peter Rabbit and Danny Meadow Mouss knew it was and they knew whose volce It was; and because they had seen Simba they suddenly found quite important small sin¢e Danny Meadow Mousge had re- | turned from the Sunny South had bhe been so important. Of course everybody pretended ®es 1o believe What Peter and Dane themselves Menas for the Family | BY SISTER MARY | Breaktast — s apple, cereal, h whole w coffee, Luncl 5 rye bread, radishe eet cherries, br i onions, frésh ner — Baked fish iin parsiey butter, cucumber water cress salad, pruns pudding, milk, coffee. Savory Macaroni Twvo cups ¢ cooked kidney e, 2 oniong, 1 ta y, 6 alices cloves, 1-5 teaspoon j v potatoes Cut’ each slice of bacon in four i very t of fat Cook in bacon fat until a pule | °8. slightl. Cook untll crisp and w color, Add tom ley, cloxes and pepper, g point and simmer te heated, in the cen ing dish or platter. a border of hot n There s no ' “Ot course, this is all my imagi- | appears to! those two widely di- ing should hap- | “I already | that Peter and Danny | and | . NEW BRITAIN DAILY HERALD, THURSDAY, MAY 26, -1927. WHAT HAS GONE BEFORE Garrett Folsom s | death while swimming at Ocean | Town, N. J. It is believed that the |death weapon was a pichaq, an | Oriental knife, and that it was pur- | chased on the boardwalk. Folsom’s bathing companions had | been Roger Neville, a business part- | ner; Mrs. Helen Barnaby and Car- melita Valdon. Anastasia Folsom, eccentric and | masterful sister of the dead man, | takes command, and it is establish- |ed that one Croydon Sears is a fan- |cler of curlous weapons. Sears ad- | mits buying two knives but not the ! pichaq. | Anastasia engages Titus Riggs, an architect, to work on the case. Dan | Pelton, Folsom's nephew, arrives | and is puszled by the curious French | dolls in his uncle's rooms. { Croydon Sears sends for Fleming | Stone, famous detective. He tells | him Folsom had been blackmailing [ nim and he had lied at the inquest {hut was innocent. Stone meets oth- | ers of the circle, including Ned Bar- |ron and his wite, Madeline, who | puzzles him. | Robin | surprised when Stone mentions the | dolls Folsom had owned. {NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY CHAPTER XLITT Stone amused them all with his deseriptian of the dolls that had be- longed to Garrett Folsom. not so surprising,” said with a twinkle in his eye. horn collector will choose the strangest llnes! I collect | weapons, another collects dolls. I'm | not sure the dolls aren’t more nd- | mirablo. At least, they're less dan- gerous.”™ “I'd like to see those dolls," | Robin satd. “Angel adores them.” | “Well, the Folsom lot are |among the finest.=They must be limported. T never saw any more beautiful ones—if one is fond of dolls.” Breakfast over, and carly to | Valdon, Stone went to rooms, A confab with the principals |there brought about a more ex haustive inquiry into the sales | made thé night before the mur- | der of Garrett Folsom. ; And it was pretty well lished that as the auction dre to a close that night, that the attendants somewhat hastily gath- ered odds and ends of their ware mto bundles and sold them rap- 1dly, taking, In most instances, the first bid made. This, though done without sanction of the proprictors, not unprecedented, for thu it being too the auetion estab- was the made ready for next prises. Few of the sal ple could re- member definitely the who had bought these bundleg, but Iar last one clerk came forward ith a story of a man who had purchased the very last one. I remember,” he safd, “because the chap only bid five dollars, but [T let him take it, partly to got rid of the last lot ar tly the buyers had thinned out - day's enter- heeause so 1 | | | “But you are glad he is stabbed to | Sears, son of Croydon, is | antique | expect to see Carmelita | the | countars were clearefi and”the way | customers | A A sy P AHLs i | didn’t think there'd be another bid.” asked. “He had a white mustache. That's all T remember especlaily. He was | just an ordinary-lookifg fellow, not | rich but not poor either. Dog't re- | member his clothes at all, but I | couldn’t help seeing that white mustache and I thought he was old. But his voica didn’t- sound very old | —more middle-aged like. I didn't | see his hair; he kept his hat on. He i paid cash for his bundle and took it along with him. Didn't seem em- | barrassed or flustered, just sort of quiet-like and indiferent."” “A collector?” | “No, I don't think so. But you |can’t tell always. A real collector is goxy and pretends he isn't a col- | lector at all. So you can't tell.” | “No, I suppose mot. And { bundle, this last sale, had a pichaq n it?” | “Yes, sir. An old one, with a | worn-out velvet scabbard, just like | the one the police have. ' “What else was in 1t?" “Trash mostly. Nothing of A Chinese ink-holder incense-burner. | | same era. {and a Japanese | But not valuable dition. He pald all the worth.” “And you lot was can’t think of any | other distinguishing trait he had?” ot one. He was just like one of a hundred guys Wwho come in here every day. It was only that | white mustache that made him |stick in my memory at all.” “He's the man,” Fleming Stone told himself, as he left the shop | and turncd his steps back toward the Majvsaca. | Yet he had not entirely put the |idea of Carmelita out of his con- siderations. And, as he puzzled over it, it came to him that some- !hody had said the night before that she had human tools to work | It—and the man with the white he one of these? Had he it the old weapon for Carme- |tita’s use, either ignorant of her | purpose or cognizant thereof? | Who could he have been? And | where was any man with a white mustache? Such a facial adorn- | ment was enough of a rarity now- | adays to be conspicuous, even among | hordes of people at Oceau own. |""And then 1t came to him. o mustache, of course! simpler and | vet more effective disguise than a |false mustache, particularly a no- | | ticeable one. Granting this, then, the disguise | was intentional, and the purchase | | was made with the expectation of using the weapen for a murderous A Ita - | There is no easier, | purpose! | | So the man was not necessarily | old; probably not at all so, and the nixt step was to learn his identity. Not an easy matter, as thero scemed to be nothlng to go upon [but that assumption of a false | mustache. i But aside from the dolls and the | dagger, it was the only materfal | |clue in sight, and Fleming Stone t to work to make it yleld up its “What did he look like?” Stone | this | the | or in good con- | |found must be looked As he neared the hotel he met Robin Sears. “Hello,” sald the youth, “we've found the man in the green bath- ing suit.” “Who is he?” asked Stone. “His name {s Preston; h a stuffy old coot, and he doesn’t re- member dad at all! Cheerful out- look!" “Never mind,” Stone told hlm“ “we've got a nice white mustache to work on.” Fleming Stone walked, along the boardwalk toward the Hotel Ma- | jusaca, thinking deeply. Yet his absorption in thought did not pre- |vent his enjoyment of his sur- roundings. Though he cared lit- tle for surf-bathing, the sights and |sounds of the crowds of merry- makers pleased his senses as a whole rather than in any detall. The rolling chairs with their hu-| man freight and their varied types of pushers interested and amused him, and though he looked at nothing closely, he saw it all as & huge moving picture. Yet all the time his reason was working on the case in hand. He had not the slightest doubt that the man with the white mus- |tache was an agent for some one | else, and that the mustache Wi disguise. But why was the man nota principal? he asked himself. Why not the murderer himaself? | If so, it must have been one of | the men already mixed up with the atfalr. Of course, it might have been an entire stranger, but Stone's ex- ! perience \ed him to think that this was unlikely. For usually a mur- derer is sooner or later shown to be acquainted with his victim, if | only by the casual testimony or evidence by bystanders or onlook- ors. | { there was always the | possibility—If Garrett Folsom had been murdered by some one that his surviving friends and relatives knew nothing of, that fact must | also be proved. But the immediate | business in hand for Stone was to| prove that Croydon Sears had | nothing to do with the crime, and | this necessitated the investigation of all toward whom the finger of suspicion pointed. | Robin's report that the man in| suit had been | into later. thoughts cen- that of Car- the green bathing At present Stone's tered on one figure, melita Valdon. “Just the one for the part,” the | detective pondered. “The right type for a murderess, and proved al- ready to have had motive and op- portunity, and—if the white mus-. tached chap was her emissary—she | had a way to get the weapon.” How she could carry the knife info the ocean unobserved. Stone | did not stop to think. For he| knew whoever killed Folsom HAD | carried the knife into the water, | and, clearly, it would be easier for a woman to conceal such a thing | in her bathing costume than for | a man. In fact, Stone thought, that point scored heavily in favor of a woman criminal. For, with the more or less elaborate sults they {wore nowadays, ample apportunity | was offered for the concealment of with his had a knife, while |simple one or two-plece suit, a man, |small chance to hide anything of dead,” Stone sald quietly | TReach the Majusaca, he | the sort, found | Mrs. Valdon on the deck, exquisite- |ly arrayed in a morning costume ap- | propriate for the beach. CHAPTER XLIV | *Not going in this | 8tone eald, after Pelton, who was {with her, had made introductions. “Not until later,” Carmelita Val- |don told him. “About noon I think, today.” “Then you've time for a chair ride with me. | toneliness and come for a ride. |to go alone.” It was not lita Valdon to turn down anything |in the shapé of attention from any | presentable man. And Fleming Stone was decidedly presentable. So Carmelita smiled on him and | declared she'd love to go. “Se¢ you when T come back, Dan,” she saild gafly to Pelton, who watched the pair depart, un- | certain whether he wanted Stone to | interview her or not. “Be good to her,” he called out, {as a warning to the detective, who |answered with a smile and a nod, {and then glanced at Carmelita. | "I fancy everybody | you,” he said in his gentle voice, iso full of subtle flattery and yet | impersonal, too. “Yes,” she sald slowly, “every- body but Fate.” “And Fate is cruel?” |, They were slowly rolling along | the boardwalk, the sun not yet high enough to be unpleasantly |warm, the sea breeze comihg in | crisp and cool and the stolid, half- asleep negro pushing them utter- | |ly obvious of, it indeed he could Ihear, their conversation. is a Prescription for Colds, Grippe, Flu, Dengue, dilious Fever and Malaria. It kills the germs | Merely Margy, An Awfully Sweet Girl - ALL RIGHT SIR ILL GET YOou morning?” | Do take pity on my | {The chairs fascinate me and I hate | the habit of Carme- | “Yes, Mr. Stone,” and Carm lita turned & grave countenance to -his own. “Fate {is nearly al- ways cruel to & woman.” © “Oh, what a sweeping asser- tion! And what an untrue one! Surely you don’t mean that—you, with the world at your feet — with all the gifts nature can bestow—" “Never mind that sort of talk. And it is we who have—as you say—natures gifts, looks, charm, power, all the feminine arts, who oftenest get cruel blows from Fate, that are none the less terri- ble because unknown to the world at large.” ‘Without appearing- to do wo, Stone scrutinized her keenly. Eith- er this woman was all Miss Folsom had painted her, and she was de- Iiberately setting out to fascinate him, or Pelton was right and she was troubled, but not by reason of a gullty conacience regarding Fol- scm's murder.” “I think, Mrs. Valdon,” he said gently, “it would be better if we talked plainly. You know, I dare £ay, that I am down here to inves- tigate the death of Garrett Fol- som. There are reasons why I should ask you some questions and I have chosen this way to do ft, thinking it would be the least an- noylng to you.” 4 Carmelita thanked him with one of her best smiles. “You are §00d,” she sald, with ring of sincerity in her tone. Let us talk plainly then. In the first place, I did not kill Mr. Fol- som.” “But you are glad he is dead,’ Stone said quietly. 8he gave him a startled glance. “I hate to put it so baldly,” she | | sa14, as it thinking this over, ‘but | well, I am not really sorry. Or, to come nearer the truth, I'm glad only for one reason. Otherwise L wish the man were atill alive.” “You're glad he's dead because | that gave you opportunity ' to re trieve your letters which he held. “You must have been . told that,” she sald, looking straight at him, “and nobody could have told | you but Dan Pelton. Yes, I did get my lotters back, and I never could have done that so long as Garrett Folsom was alive.” “And so you are suspected, in some quarters, of having killed him in order to accomplish that end.” “Soma quarters, meaning his sis- | ter, I suppose. Does any one else | suspect me, Mr. Stone?” “That I don't know. But it} would not be out of the question for Miss Folsom to spread such a suspicton.’} “I know it wouldn't. . She hates me. I wonder why?" “Partly because you two are so dlametrically opposed in character and type and partly because she really thinks you killed her brother.” “My dear Mr. Stone, I couldn’t kill anybody. I really couldn't. Miss Folsom might; she's the killer sort. But I'm not—' “That's no argument, Mrs. Val- | don. To kill a man one doesn’t have to perform the actual deed oneself.” Fleming Stone had dropped his charming manner, and now he spoke with the steely, low, hard volce that had so often struck ter- ror to the heart of a wrongdoer. Carmelita gave a little | You mean—" i “That some one else could have done {t—at your bidding. Who was the man with the white mus- tache 2" At once drawn blank. Purposely he had sprung this question suddenl,y feeling sure he could tell by her reaction whether she knew of the man or not. Clearly she did not. For her un- | comprehending look and her sur- | prised volce were so indubitably |sincere that the detective was | forced to believe her. “The man with the white mus- tache? I've not the slightest fdea. | But he most certainly was no | agent of mine; And I tell you Mr. | Stone, I had no hand in Garrett Fol- | som’s death. Elther directly or in- | directly.” “But as soon as he was dead | you hastened to get your letters?” “I did indeed! And a hard time | T had of it! I subsidized servants: 1 begged keys from friends; I trled every way I could think of— |and T finally got them. Now they | (are burned up, and if the police |accuse me of murder because of | it they will have to prove it. But | | they can’t get the letters!” | “Her emile of triumph went tur- | ther toward convincing Stone of | her innocence. regarding the mur- !der than any asseverations could | have done. To his mind it was | clear | get her letters and so relieved at | having got them that the thought |of a more serious accusation had Stone saw he had | s good to |not yet sunk very deeply into her | mind. And this, of course, for the ‘rsuon that she had no guilty knowledge of the crime itself. | “The letters were so very im- | portant then?” he asked, casually. | “Important to me because of | their disclosure of some facts in | my past life which I wish kept se- |eret. Facts which {small interest to the general pub- lic but which were of enough im- | portance to give Garrett Folsom a { hold over me that he never let me | forget. Now they are destroyed, | that she was 8o anxlous to | would be of | and my soul is at peace.” She was silent a moment and then turned to him, with a really lovely smile, and sald, “My soul ocouldn't “be at peace if I hixd killed him, could 1t?” “No, Mre. Valdon,” Stone said, giving her a keen look, “I think ft could not. I'm not prepared to say I can tell a criminal by look- ing at one, but I will say that I think I can tell by talking to one. And my judgement, my experience and my instinct all shout to me your innocence in the matter of Folsom's death. Now the question of thoss letters need never be brought up, never be even men- tioned, if we can find out who aid kill Folsom. That’s all his sister wants; that's all the police want; that's all I want—to learn the identity of the murderer. No one has any justifiable concern with your_ letters or their import if you are not connected with the crime.” “What are you leading up to she asked gravely. “Just this. You know — prob- ably from some evidence you ran across while getting your own let- ters — you know something you have not yet told. I want you to tell it to me.” (To Be Continued) Does Carmelita Valdon, whom Stone belicves innocent, hold the key to the Folsom mystery? Dom’t miss the remaining chapters. Your Health How to Keep It— Causes of Lliness BY DR. MORRIS FISHBEIN Editor Journal of the American Medical Association and of Hygela, the Health Magazine Dr. J. J. Conybeare of Guy's hos- pital, London, has formulated briet- ly some simple rules to be followed by every dlabetic in order to reslst the complications which may be the final factors in bringing about death, These are: J 1. It is Important to avold un. due exertion, either physical or mental. The latter is probably even more important than the for- mer. A moderate amount of regular physical exercise 18 beneficial, but to what extent it may be indulged should be left to the decision of the medical attendant. 2. Bpecial attention must be paid to the teeth, and regular visits should be made to the dental sur- geon. Should any abscesses be dis- covered, the teeth affected must be extracted. The reason for this some- what drastic action is that poisons are absorbed into the blood if an abscess is present, and these affect the pancreas. 3. The diabetlc should pay par- ticular attention to the feet: they should be washed daily, carefully dried, and sprinkled with boracic powder. Shoes must be large and not constrict the toes. Neglect of these precautions may lead to gan- grene of the toes, a condition which often ends fatally. 4. Be careful to avold constipa- tion. The dlabetic dlet, with its high proportion of §' per cent vege- tablgs, is in itself usually one which will tend to lead to regular action of the bowels. 5. Diabetics are more liable to infections such as influenza than normal people, and the results of such infections are far more seri- ous in diabetics. In consequence it is wise in the presence of an epi- demic to avold places such as theaters, churches, etc., where the disease s likely to be contracted. Whenever a diabetic feels {ll from REE-TOP g’r% RIES \grass ey can't play ball, - and they NEVER got new shoes or et than o bird” 1 DONT THINK BLT BLTTI HOW DO YOu MEAN - ALL WET ? I WANT TO NG WITH A touch with a doctor. 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